Avocados Are a Subtropical Species
by hannahsoapy
Summary: "No, there is not a spell to change the weather patterns of Britain," said Hermione, adding mournfully, "At least, not a legal one."


A/N: Okay, guys, I don't even know, so don't ask. My brain does weird stuff. And my search history now contains the phrase 'regency era swears'. I have no regrets.

Submission for QLFC Round One – Snake Humor

Chaser #1 for the Chudley Cannons

Prompt: Write about a canonly virtuous/innocent character resisting temptation.

Optional Prompts: 5. (genre) parody, 7. (dialogue) "The only thing tougher than farmers are farmers' mums.", 8. (situation) Catch-22

Word Count: 2,231

* * *

The clod of dirt skipped down the road a few paces, before landing with a final, satisfying smack, and breaking apart.

A delicate, booted foot swung out from beneath petticoats and skirts, and another dirt clod followed the first, and then shortly after, another.

"Ginevra, it's not becoming of a lady to kick dirt clods."

"Come on, 'Mione. You used to kick them with me," Ginny pouted, looking up at her from beneath her bonnet. "It'll make you feel better, really."

Hermione sighed, eyeing the tempting dried clumps of dirt that littered the road they were strolling down. It was true, she used to run along the road with the Weasleys, cheerfully scattering dirt everywhere, without a care for their ruined hems, or how much scrubbing in the bath they would all need later.

But she didn't have time for such silliness and frivolity now. Her father was too distracted by his dentistry ("I've invented a brush for the teeth that will save the world from tooth decay!") to run their estate. There was no time to kick dirt clods around when she had to deal with tenant farmers – and worse, their mothers.

"Take it from me, Ginny," Hermione advised her walking companion, wearily. "The only thing tougher than farmers are farmers mum's."

"I think you mean stubborner," Ginny said cheerfully, and Hermione had to bite her cheek to restrain herself from correcting her. "What is it Mrs. Thomas wants her son to plant again?"

"Avocados," Hermione said, dully.

"Avocados? Whatever are those?"

"The hottest crop of the year, according to Mrs. Thomas," Hermione said, in frustration. "She just doesn't understand that our soil isn't meant for growing avocados, and neither is our weather! They're the hottest crop of the year because they're subtropical! But she's already sent an owl off for her starter pack of avocado seeds and convinced her son that they need to dedicate an entire hectare to avocados!"

"That is a lot of avocados," Ginny agreed. "Haven't you told her it's a bad idea?"

"Of course I have!" Hermione cried. "And she patted my hand and told me I 'didn't understand the intricate art of tending the land' like she did. Ooh! Well, perhaps I'm not a farmer, but I have studied magical agriculture."

"And got an O on your N.E.W.T., as I recall," Ginny acknowledged.

"Thank you, Ginny," Hermione said, gratefully. "But did I tell you what happened this morning?"

"No," Ginny said, twirling to gain momentum, and giving a truly spectacular kick to a large clod of dirt. "You just dragged me out the door for a walk without any explanation at all. Not that I was complaining, mind. Miss Brown was calling on us."

An expressive look was then exchanged between them, and that was all that needed be said on the subject of the future Mrs. Ronald Weasley.

"Well, I finally marched down to Mrs. Thomas and told that under no circumstances could she plant those avocado trees, and she agreed, easy as flobberworms, and then," Hermione paused to catch her breath, "I overheard her telling Mrs. Finnegan that they were 'go for plan B', which is, apparently, to plant them anyway, sneaking them into any parcel of land they can get away with. I might as well have told her she could plant them in one field, after all. The whole neighborhood's in on it, and I can't get away from these dratted avocados!"

Ginny contemplated for a moment. "It's quite a conundrum," she said, finally, which was the understatement of the century, in Hermione's opinion. "Look here, just kick that, you'll feel much better."

Hermione was forced to admit, the particular dirt ball that Ginny had pointed out was perfectly formed for kicking. She let herself imagine, briefly, how nice it would be to swing her foot back, send it soaring through the air, and then – the distant sound of hoofbeats further down the road brought her back to reality.

"I really can't," she told Ginny, now mindful that they would soon have company on the road.

"Alright, then," Ginny shrugged. "I will." And before Hermione could do anything, she was picking up her skirts and running forward, all her focus on executing an ideal kick.

The kick was one for the record books, if indeed there were any kept for dirt clod kicking, but as it turned out, those hoofbeats were much closer than they had sounded.

Two very well-dressed gentlemen on horseback came cantering around the corner just as the ball of dirt was falling from its parabolic arc through the air. Hermione was too late in drawing her wand from her reticule to cast an _Arresto Momentum_, and Ginny stood shocked in the middle of the road as her dirt clod hit the darker-haired of the two directly in the face.

Hermione rushed past a still-immobile Ginny to make sure the gentleman was alright.

"Merlin!" He exclaimed, as he brushed the dirt off his cravat and riding coat. "I wasn't expecting a welcome quite like that!"

"We're so sorry," Hermione said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he assured her, and then held up a pair of scratched and dirty glasses. "But I'm afraid these took the most of the damage."

"Allow me," Hermione said quickly, tapping the frame with her wand. "_Oculus Reparo_," she incanted, and was gratified by their immediate, sparkling restoration.

The gentleman put them back on his face and grinned amiably. "You might be as good at that as Malfoy over here," he said, gesturing to the blonde man on the horse beside him, who merely rolled his eyes. "Oh! How rude of me," he continued, "I haven't introduced myself. Mr. Harry Potter, at your service. And this is my good friend, Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Hermione recognized the name; he had lately inherited Grimmauld Place, and made all the young ladies in the neighborhood very excitable with rumors of his wealth and unmarried status. If she was not mistaken, she had heard that his friend Mr. Malfoy was also a bachelor. They both were handsome, Hermione decided, as all single unmarried gentlemen of fortune should be, if they could help it, but she did find herself preferring Mr. Malfoy's features better.

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, dipping her skirts in a polite curtsey. Mr. Malfoy gave her a gracious nod. "Miss Hermione Granger, and this is Miss Ginny Weasley."

"Delighted!" Mr. Potter said, all smiles, in spite of the dirt still clinging to his face. "We were just going to pay a visit to Mr. Weasley now."

Hermione glanced at Ginny, but she was staring at Mr. Potter with very wide eyes, and seemed to be incapable of speaking.

"If you are not opposed to slowing your pace, we should be turning," Hermione offered, and was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Potter eagerly jumped down from his horse.

"We should be delighted," he said, "shan't we, Malfoy?"

"Far be it from me to leave two young ladies unaccompanied on a deserted road," Mr. Malfoy said dryly, swinging his leg over to dismount. Hermione couldn't be certain, but she thought he might have meant it as a joke, and therefore, she did not comment.

Ginny, however, snorted indelicately at the perceived offense. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged, and said, defensively, "We've got our wands, haven't we?"

"And very judiciously aimed dirt-clods," Mr. Potter said, with a wink. Ginny coloured a shade of red that Hermione could have mistaken for a sun-burn, if it hadn't been such a cloudy day. With very little maneuvering, she placed them next to each other, putting herself next to Mr. Malfoy, who, despite his aloof mien, did cut a fine figure in his riding coat.

"Are you finding Godric's Hollow very pleasant, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, politely.

"Quite," he said, after a long pause, in which he stared at her face rather longer than was proper. Hermione cleared her throat, and he looked away self-consciously.

"And do you plan to stay long?"

"As long as Potter needs me here," he replied evenly.

"Don't tell me that, Malfoy, I'll keep you here forever," Mr. Potter called from in front of them, obviously having heard their conversation. "I'm rather hopeless at this whole business of managing estates and such. I imagine I'll make a mull of it completely when he leaves."

"Oh! If that is what you require assistance with, I would direct you to Miss Granger," Ginny told him. "She manages her parents' estate herself – and very well, in my opinion."

Hermione couldn't help colouring a little at this flattery, although she was not entirely sure as to its accuracy at the moment, what with the avocado dilemma she was faced with.

"All by yourself?" Mr. Malfoy asked, with evident surprise upon his countenance. "You do not even employ a steward?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, feeling rather offended. "I am perfectly capable of managing it on my own."

"Ah," was the man's eloquent response, and then it was as if he was struck mute for the rest of the walk to the Burrow.

Hermione didn't mind in the least, but it was very awkward, and she agonized about the lack of discourse the whole rest of the walk.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley's voice trumpeted from the drawing room as they

entered the Burrow. "Why does your hand on the family clock read 'Found True Love'? Oh!"

Mrs. Weasley had spotted Mr. Potter standing next to Ginny as she came down the stairs, and she stood on the bottom step, flabbergasted. Well, thought Hermione, inspecting the closeness of Ginny and Mr. Potter to each other, that was a foregone conclusion right there. Mrs. Weasley, needless to say, gathered her wits with rapidity and was soon exclaiming over the both of them, speculating as to how soon they could possibly post the banns.

Hermione shook her head in fond exasperation of Mrs. Weasley. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Malfoy doing the same, and just caught his low mutter of, "Only you, Potter."

* * *

A week later, Hermione was again out walking with Ginny, who was, once more, enthusiastically kicking clods of dirt. Hermione, this time, refrained from both kicking them herself, and reminding Ginny of proper ladylike behavior, although she could not help but watch the dirt fly with a certain amount of longing.

"And do you know where I found an avocado seed planted yesterday?"

"I can't imagine where," Ginny practically sang, betraying both her utter happiness and complete inattention to Hermione's plight.

"Oh, I suppose it doesn't matter," Hermione groused. "The point is, I'm swamped with avocado seeds, and an entire hectare's worth of crop space that could be growing something else!"

"Avocados are very delicious, I'm sure," said Ginny dreamily.

"That's not the point, Ginevra!" Hermione cried. "They won't even grow here!"

"There must be a spell for that?"

"No, there is not a spell to change the weather patterns of Britain," said Hermione, adding mournfully, "At least, not a legal one."

"All those poor avocados that will never exist," Ginny sighed, and kicked another dirt-clod.

It seemed to happen in slow-motion, this time; Mr. Malfoy, rounding the bend ahead of them, and the flight of the dirt clod, smoothly arcing through the air. To his credit, Mr. Malfoy, although there was really not much he could do at that point, did manage to duck out of the way, however, his horse was not so lucky.

The poor animal was spooked by the impact, and, rearing back, deposited Mr. Malfoy on the ground on his rear, and promptly bolted.

Ginny, again, appeared shocked at what her actions had wrought.

"Ginevra!" Hermione said sternly, and the younger girl turned, slowly. "Go fetch the horse before it runs all the way to London!"

"Right," Ginny said, and she ran off in the direction the horse had gone.

Hermione looked to Mr. Malfoy, and found him attempting to stand, whilst wincing heavily.

"I'm very sorry," Hermione said, rushing over to assist him. "First Mr. Potter, and now your horse. We cannot seem to stop offending you with dirt clods."

"On the contrary," Mr. Malfoy said, grey eyes sparking with humor. "I found myself irrationally jealous of that dirt clod."

Hermione glanced at him, puzzled.

"Well, you see," he told her, "if it had hit me, you would have looked at me first."

Hermione gaped at him. Then she giggled. Then she laughed. She didn't laugh long, however, because it became evident that Mr. Malfoy was quite embarrassed by it.

"I must confess, this is a very unusual way of asking if you can court me," Hermione said impudently.

"If you will allow me to say so," he said, meeting her eyes honestly, "You are a very unusual woman." Hermione smiled.

"Thank you very much," she said. "And, yes, I will."

They stood there for a minute, grinning at each other quite foolishly, until Hermione suggested they apparate to her estate so he could speak to her parents. (Both of them had completely forgotten about Ginny, still chasing down the horse.)

"There is just one thing I am confused about," Malfoy said, as she took his proffered arm for Side-along.

"Yes?"

"Well, I was under the impression that avocados were a subtropical species, you see, but Potter and I keep finding all these seeds lying about…"


End file.
